Stakeout
by WinnerGrey
Summary: Tony and Ziva are assigned a stakeout...what will ensue?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: God bless USA. I mean, really. We complain about how the network doesn't give us enough episodes every night, or how they give too many episodes with Kate, or not enough episodes with Tiva connotations.

But I think we should all be very grateful, because they showed episode 5.12 Stakeout last night, which is one of my favorite episodes. I had forgotten about how much I had wanted to write a Tiva fic about a stakeout last year but had never gotten the chance. So here one is. I'm planning on making this a longish multi-chaptered fic- and though the first chapter isn't exactly very Tiva-centric, I promise it'll get better. Rated T for now. Might change later. I mean, it is a stakeout, after all.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Aw, come on, Ziva. We could make this fun," Tony said cheerfully to his partner as they slid out of the black company car.

"Tony, let me make one thing very, _very_ clear to you: this will never be fun. Do not try to make it fun. Do not play any practical jokes on me. Do not screw up my food orders on purpose. Because those things do not make stakeouts fun; they make me angry."

Tony, feeling slightly threatened, looked over at Ziva to make sure she was kidding.

She appeared to be completely serious.

"Why are we even taking this case anyway? Since when does Gibbs want to follow up leads on a _prostitute_?" Ziva snapped to no one in particular.

"Uhhh…since this prostitute was believed to be a serial killer?"

Ziva opened her mouth but couldn't seem to find any argument to counter.

"Look, Ziva," Tony said soothingly. "We both know how much you- I mean we- hate stakeouts. So let's make this as quick as possible. All we have to do is watch through the binoculars and catch her in the act. No problem. We've definitely handled tougher cases before."

Ziva glared at Tony. "I just do not understand why _we_ are the ones handling this! Isn't it a job for local the PD? Or a more inexperienced team? Why _us_? I mean, just because marines are the targets doesn't mean we have to handle it."

He rolled his eyes. "First of all: yes it does mean we have to handle it. And Ziva. We can't always be interrogating and shooting people. That's only part of the job. And you're good at that part," Tony said with a smirk. "But sometimes we have to do things…more quietly. You get what I'm saying, right? Like that time you went undercover to catch that serial killer….you know what? Never mind." Tony flinched at the stare of death Ziva was sending his way and opted not to finish his sentence. "Let's just get through the week."

"A _week_? Tony! I am going to kill you! You mean 2 days, do you not? Gibbs said it would be at most 2 or 3 days!"

"Oh-oh yeah, that's what I-" Tony was cut off by the powerful kick Ziva aimed at one of the rear car tire. The car bounced on impact.

Tony edged away from his steaming partner and popped open the car trunk. In it were two trash bags- one filled with headphones, laptops, binoculars, and other computer-ish things McGee had given them, and the other filled with a few pillows and blankets, and extra NCIS sweatshirts, sweatpants and t-shirts for each of them.

"Here." Tony chucked the bag with the pillows at Ziva, who caught it with yet another glare, to which Tony responded with yet another eye-roll.

This was going to be a long week.

By the time Tony and Ziva had walked the mile from their car to the town they would be staking out in, their moods had completely swapped. Tony, stuck with the heavier trash bag, was aching all over and had all but ruined his only set of real clothes after falling into a pit of mud Ziva had nudged him into after he had commented on one of her screwed-up idioms. This, on the other hand, had made Ziva feel a lot better.

When the pair arrived at the old, shabby hotel they would be staying in, Ziva pushed open the sagging door to reveal a grungy, dark lobby. Tony stomped angrily over the rotted doorstep and muttered to Ziva: "It smells like mold in here." Ziva fought back a smile and shut the door gently behind him, careful not to pull it off it's rusty hinges.

Tony stalked up to the reception desk, where a fat, wispy-haired, middle-aged woman sat, a cigarette dangling out of her gray mouth. "We need a room," Tony snarled at her.

The receptionist suspiciously eyed the bulging trash bag slung over Tony's shoulder. "Double or single?" she said in a crackling monotone.

"Single," Ziva replied, and at the same time, Tony said "Double."

The receptionist raised her eyebrow at the dusty pair.

"Single," Ziva confirmed, shooting a look at Tony. He clenched his jaw but remained silent.

"Have a preference for a floor?"

"First," Tony replied.

"He means the top floor," Ziva countered.

"No, I definitely mean the first floor."

"We want to stay in a room on the top floor, facing the street." Ziva smiled at the receptionist. "We're thinking of moving here and want to look at the houses." The receptionist glared back at her.

"No, _sweetcheeks,_ we want to stay on the first floor. That way, we won't have to walk up and down 500 flights of stairs every time we leave."

"We have an elevator," the receptionist growled. Tony and Ziva turned around and eyed the run-down elevator wearily.

"There is no way in hell I'm getting in that thing," Tony said under his breath to Ziva.

She ignored him. "See, darling? They have an elevator. We'll take the top floor."

"it's $150 per night, extra for room service." Tony threw the money at her, and the receptionist, in turn, threw a key at Tony. "Room 526."

"Thank you," Ziva said. The receptionist was busy opening a pack of cigarettes and appeared not to hear her.

Tony had been right- the walk up to the 12th floor was not only exhausting, but also extremely frightening. The stairs, although safer than the elevator, were steep, rickety and made of wood, and did not look like they would support much weight at all. Every step triggered an ominous creak, and it seemed they would collapse at any moment.

"Why…would…you…ever…put…us…in…a…single…room…on…the…top…floor?!" Tony gasped to Ziva.

'Because the top floor has the best view of the street the prostitute lives on. And we didn't need a double bed."

He was too out of breath to respond.

"Does this place ever get visited by health inspectors?" Tony panted angrily when they had finally reached the 12th floor. "You know what? They're probably too scared to come."

Ziva unlocked their door and stepped into their room, followed by Tony. Both dropped their bags on the floor and stared.

"Are you _fu-_ are you kidding me?" Tony cried. "A friggin' 150 per night for _this_?"

"I know. It's not really.....very clean, is it?"

"It's freaking _disgusting_! I told you we should have gone for a double!"

The room was cramped and dark. The windows were coated in some sort of brown mold. The queen bed they had been expecting was just a queen size mattress shoved up against the wall. The carpet was moist and smelled like sweat. The adjoining bathroom smelled equally bad. When Ziva bravely entered, to wash her hands, she found that the running water was briney and brown.

"Oh my God. This is awful. Remind me why Gibbs assigned us this case again?"

"That is exactly what I wanted to know an hour ago. Stop whining, Tony, and help me set up our equipment.

Tony whimpered but laid out their pillows and blankets on the mattress as Ziva hooked up various laptops to the outlets that were-thankfully-located in various spots on the waterlogged walls and situated the cameras so that they were facing the grimy window.

"We are going to need to clean this window," Ziva said, slightly more snappish than she had been a few moments ago. The boredom of the stakeout was starting to sink into both of them.

"Okay...well, you can do that, can't you?" Tony retorted, equally snappish.

"Actually, I think it would be good for you to do it, seeing as I was the one who set up all of our equipment."

"True, but I was the one who had to carry the heavy bag all the way here."

"The bag is really not that heavy, Tony."

"Okay, Supergirl, I'd like to hear you say that after you've dragged it down a dirt road for 45 minutes."

"Look, it is not my fault-"

"_Both_ of you clean the window!"

Tony and Ziva jumped and looked at one of the monitors to find Gibbs staring angrily at the both of them through Abby's lab cam.

"You do not have time to argue over stupid things! Men could be getting killed right now!"

Tony glanced at Ziva nervously. "I really doubt that Boss. It's daytime and most prostitutes work at ni-"

"Shut up, DiNozzo. Just clean the window."

"Yes Boss."

As Tony hurried into the bathroom to get some paper towels, Ziva heard Gibbs sigh and mutter something along the lines of needing either a lot more coffee or a bottle of bourbon.

This was going to be a _very_ long week, indeed.

* * *

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Either way, review it!

Update should be here by tomorrow night, and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I was very pleasantly surprised by all the reviews and alerts from last chapter! Virtual hugs to all those who brightened my day :)

In this chapter: more Tony/Ziva banter/humor. Speaking of which, _please_ let me know in a review if you think I'm going overboard on it. There won't be much more of it, I promise, but it is very fun to write.

Upcoming chapters will include: some fluff, some lemony goodness, some more fluff, and then a bit of drama *gasp*. I may have to fit some sort of criminal activity in there also. Haven't planned past that, but I'm still working on it, and any ideas are welcome!

Enjoy!

* * *

It had been 5 hours since Ziva and Tony had begun their stakeout. The sky had darkened from brisk, powdery blue to a black blanket littered with stars and satellites. The prostitute who was suspected of murdering 3 marines hadn't come out of her house that day, leaving Tony and Ziva extremely bored.

"It would be awful to be a prostitute," Ziva said slowly and tiredly to Tony, who was spacing out at the inky sky through his binoculars.

"Mmm," he responded unenthusiastically.

"All you do is….get raped. That is all you do. By disgusting men."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Especially in a town like this. I mean, there are only so many men who want to sleep with you, right? Eventually, you run out and you have to reuse them."

"Wait…what the hell are you even talking about?" Tony asked, furrowing his forehead confusedly. "_Reusing _men? What even brought that into your head?"

"Well there is only so much I can talk about with you just _staring_ out the window at nothing," Ziva said, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in the air.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't get your panties-" he looked pointedly down at her crotch, eyebrows raised suggestively- "in a twist. I'm just saying that, as long as we're stuck here, we should at least find something interesting to talk about."

"Oh really?" Ziva snorted, crossing her legs tightly at the same time. Tony saw her eyes flicker remotely. She obviously didn't want to talk about _something _in particular. "Like what? And old Dragnet episode?"

Tony lit up excitedly. "Hey, have you been watching those lately? I saw this really great one the other night about this guy who threatened to shoot himself in the head if Friday didn't bring him to the chief of police-"

Ziva closed her eyes. "Tony. I was kidding."

"Oh."

A few awkward moments of thick silence followed, then Tony said:

"Hey, you know what I been thinking of doing?"

Ziva looked pointedly out at the black sky and replied, "No."

He continued, even though Ziva showed every sign of wanting to discontinue the conversation. "Hooking McGee up with someone. He was kinda torn apart after that "Amanda" girl turned out to be a total physcho and got shot. I was thinking of setting him up with one of my exes- I know they're all still in love with me anyway, but who kno-"

"Tony, why on earth would you ever do that?"

Tony analyzed her quietly, confused. "Why would I do what?"

"Why would you set McGee up with someone?"

"I don't know.....he hasn't really gone out with anyone in a while-" Ziva cut him off for what seemed like the tenth time that day.

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I asked him! And it was a very mature conversation actually. I asked him if he had been seeing anyone, and he said no. He actually said something more along the lines of hell no, what girl would want me, I'm a social wreck-" He clenched his jaw as she interrupted again.

"And I hope you told him that was completely untrue?"

"Of course! What was I supposed to say? Anyways- and it would be great if you could just let me finish a sentence here- I just thought, you know, to get him back in the market, I'd hook him up with some hottie and he would be all set," Tony said, waiting on baited breath for her reaction.

Ziva didn't disappoint him. "Are you kidding me right now Tony? If there is anyone who needs help in the dating department, it is you! From what I can tell, you haven't had sex with anyone in over a year! A _year_!"

Tony flared. "Okay, first of all, that's so not true. Just last month- you know what? I don't even need to be telling you this. Ha, and speaking of which, how could _you_ possibly know that I hadn't.....done it _in a while_?"

Ziva averted her gaze suddenly. "It was just a guess."

Tony looked at her like she was crazy. "Just a guess? Why the hell would you go around guessing those sorts of things? What did you do, look through my condom stash or something?"

Ziva flushed bright red and Tony opened his mouth in shock. "Aha! You did go through my condoms. Why would you- hold on a sec. What else did you see in there?" He asked, averting his eyes and thinking guiltily back on the pictures of Ziva in her black bikini he had taken in LA.

"Just a mound of expired condoms. But," Ziva segmented before Tony could ask her why she had looked through his desk drawer, "it does not matter. The real question is: why would McGee ever want your help?"

"Ugh, back to this again?" Tony groaned. "I just thought it would be nice to help out a coworker."

"So you do not think that McGee is capable of getting his own date?"

"Ziva, think about what happened to him. His "girlfriend" got shot while we were working a case. You don't think he would be a little shaken up?"

"Oh, I absolutely think he would be shaken up! Which is why I am saying he might not want to get back into dating right after it happened."

"Or maybe he should get out and be social before he gets too introverted and afraid to talk about things."

"Or maybe he just wants a little alone time to figure things out," Ziva said fiercely.

"Are you sure we're still talking about McGee?" Tony said, an air of triumph tinging his tone. "Because if we're not, I know a bunch of guys who would love to go on a date with you."

"See! This exactly why I do not like to talk during stakeouts!" Ziva said, fumbling to cover up her thoughts.

"Hey! You were the one who said there was only so much to talk about when I was staring out the window. I stopped staring out the window and we talked, which is what you wanted."

Ziva growled and turned back towards the window, struggling to keep her temper. Tony looked at her and grinned, then turned on one of their monitors. Gibbs and McGee had hidden a camera in the prostitute's house earlier that day, so he and Ziva were getting a live feed. At the moment, the prostitute's bedroom was empty.

"This is going nowhere," Tony moaned, leaning back in his folding chair that the hotel had provided and putting his hands over his face.

"I agree. Why don't you go get us some food?" Ziva said. Tony stood up.

"'K. Pizza it is. What?" he said when Ziva threw him a look. "I pick up the food, I choose the food. Pepperoni okay?"

"No one is going anywhere." For the second time that day, Tony and Ziva jumped at the sudden appearance of Gibbs on one of their monitors.

"Oh, hey, boss," Tony greeted cheerfully. "When did you get here?"

"Been listening here the whole time, DiNozzo," Gibbs said slowly, throwing them both his Gibbs stare. Tony shot a nervous glance down at Ziva, who responded with one of her own.

"Ohh...okay," Tony said awkwardly, averting his gaze.

"Gibbs, we are starving. Tony will only be out for a few minutes, and I will still be here," Ziva said, trying to avoid the subject of their conversation.

"No. If you two wanted food, you should have gotten it an hour ago. It's too late now. DiNozzo, you said it yourself; prostitutes do most of their work at night. I need both of you in this room with your eyes on her house."

Tony winced and sat back down while Ziva turned her head so Gibbs couldn't see her eye-roll.

"I saw that, David," Gibbs said. "If you two want something to do, clean your room." Gibbs stepped away from the camera, revealing a bug-eyed Abby, who was clutching a Caf-Pow! and practically shivering with hyperness.

"Hi guys!" She said, bouncing up and down and smiling

"Hi Abby," Tony and Ziva responded together, albeit much less enthusiastically.

"You know, I think Gibbs is right- you guys really should clean your room. That much mold is not healthy at all, and you should at lease try to get some out if you're staying here the whole week," at which Ziva groaned and Tony swore under his breath.

"Come on, guys! You could make this fun! Just because it's a week-long stakeout doesn't mean it has to be boring! I mean, sure, the case is practically dead and you're staying in...well...a total craphole, but maybe if you cleaned it up a little....well, at least you wouldn't get sick!"

Tony and Ziva shared a startled look at this.

"Maybe we should clean up, Tony," Ziva said nervously.

"Yeah. Exactly what I was thinking. Okay, Abs," Tony said. "We're gonna clean this place now, so...bye." He switched off the camera feed.

"Hey! Guys! Why did you have to turn it off?" Tony then switched off the microphone, leaving the pair in a peaceful silence.

"I think I saw some cleaning fluids under the bathroom sink," Ziva said apprehensively to Tony.

"Okay," he responded slowly, looking around their tiny, disgusting room. "You go get those, and I'll...try and get everything up against the wall." Seeing as there were only three items of furniture in the room, this didn't prove to be difficult.

"Okay. Here they are." Ziva re-entered the room and set down 3 bottles of soap and a pile of dusty but mold-free rags.

"Ha. The cleaning crew must have left those here before they ran screaming from the premises," Tony said, a failed attempt at humor. The pair surveyed the room, until Ziva said:

"I will start on this wall, and you start on that one." Tony nodded. Both looked as though they were about to enter a flaming building.

They set to work.

* * *

A/N: So whaddya think? Again. all reveiws, compliments or criticism are welcome. Next chapter should be up by tomorrow night. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Two words for you: angsty romance. Or at least, angsty romance-like situations. I know I originally said this chapter was going to be fluffy, but this fit well into my plot line. Plus I just sort of wanted to write about it.

The next few chapters are going to differ greatly from the first two; this one is more serious, the next is going to be more romantic, and the one after that: lemons. And lots of them. There are going to be more chapters after that, but I'm not entirely sure how the storyline is going to play out yet.

Disclaimer: I just realized I had forgotten to do this in the previous chapters! Oops. So, I guess this applies to all chapters, past, present and future: I don't own NCIS. Never have, never will.

* * *

"I need food," Tony moaned, lying back on their dirty mattress and covering his face with a pillow.

"Tony, stop whining. I will get us a big breakfast tomorrow." Ziva's voice floated in from the bathroom, where she crouched on aching thighs over the floor, scrubbing away at the pale brown bathroom tiles that were coated in a thin layer of mold. It seemed that all the two had looked at for the entire night was mold. Mold covering the walls. Mold covering the window. Mold in the patch of carpet that was located under the part of the ceiling that leaked. Ziva had never had a big problem with mold, but after tonight...

"Ziva, I think we've both warranted a break from our...mold scrubbing. Come sit down." Jumping at the opportunity, Ziva put down her rag and bottle of soap and trekked tiredly into their tiny bedroom, unfolded one of their chairs and plopped down in it. Tony opened one eye and observed her lined face and drooping eyelids.

"You look exhausted," he commented, in a voice that indicated he felt exactly the same way.

"It has been a long night," she responded, before turning towards their computers. "Has there been any activity at all?"

"Nope. I swear, this is the most dormant prostitute/serial killer I have ever encountered."

Ziva's mouth curved up slightly. "And how many prostitutes have you encountered, Tony?"

Tony chose to ignore the question. "I think we should got to bed." Before Ziva could protest, he reasoned: "Ziva. It's like 2 am. If she doesn't act now, she's not going to at all tonight. There's no use staying up and watching her do nothing." Ziva closed her mouth and gave a short nod.

"Fine. But we should tell Gibbs." When Tony gave her a look of despair, she said: "I will do it while you get changed. Go." She grabbed his arm and pulled him off their mattress, pushing him and the trashbag filled with NCIS clothing into the bathroom after pulling out her own sweatshirt, t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Okay, okay. I can get up by myself, you kn-" Ziva shut the door at Tony's argument.

She sighed and looked around. Before turning on the computer to tell Gibbs that they were stopping for the night, Ziva quickly pulled over her shirt and pants and replaced them with an NCIS sweatshirt and sweatpants. Tony was still in the bathroom, and by the sounds of it, hadn't even started to undress because he was trying to avoid standing on all of the moldy spots on the floor; she obviously hadn't done a particularly impressive job of cleaning. Ziva smiled and rolled her eyes before turning on the monitor that was connected to the live camera in Abby's lab.

"McGee! I have not talked to you in a while. How are you?" Ziva said excitedly, after the camera had revealed a close up of McGee's soft, fleshy face. After giving it a second look, however, Ziva realized his cheek was pressed to one of Abby's tables and his body was giving small, predictable, rhythmic shudders- he was asleep. Ziva sighed and said loudly into the camera: "Is anyone awake there?"

"Ziva?" Ducky's voice was quiet and sounded far away.

"Ducky! Are you there? I cannot see you," Ziva said confusedly into the camera.

"My dear, I am in autopsy. Are you in Abby's lab? I thought you and Tony started your stakeout earlier today," Ducky said, surprised, and sounding equally as confused.

"Hold on a minute- if you are in autopsy, how can I hear you...oh, your are also using your camera?"

"Yes, my dear, I was just checking to see if Abby was there. What did you want to talk to her about?"

"Actually, I am looking for Gibbs. I wanted to let him know that Tony and I were going to bed. Do you know where he is?"

"I believe he, too, decided to go to bed- he left just over an hour ago. Why don't you call him?"

"Our phones do not get reception here."

"Ah. Well, I could call him for you, if you like."

"Yes, thank you Ducky. And say hello to Jimmy for me."

"I will, my dear. Good night, now."

"Good night."

Ziva switched off the computer, still pondering over the strange electronic conversation she had just had.

"Tony? Are you almost done in there?" Ziva called.

She heard Tony laugh tightly. "Sure, I'll be out soon; right after I finish scrubbing mold off the faucet handles so I can brush me teeth."

Ziva rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom. Grabbing a paper towel from under the sink, she placed it over the faucet handle and turned it. Yellowish water came streaming out of the faucet in odd spurts and clumps. Tony looked at the water for a moment, traces of horror in his eyes. "You know what? I didn't eat dinner. I really don't think I need to brush my teeth tonight." He reached out a hand to turn the water off, but Ziva had already twisted the faucet handle; his hand lay on hers for an awkward yet somewhat comfortable moment, before they simultaneously pulled their hands away.

"We should....." Tony began, then trailed off after he indicated towards their bedroom.

"Yes," Ziva responded uncomfortably.

Ziva followed Tony into their room, switching off both the bathroom light and the bare light bulb that was screwed into their ceiling. and watched as he lay down on their tiny mattress, putting his head down on one of the pillows.

"How are you only wearing that?" Ziva asked suspiciously, eying his ensemble of a thin NCIS t-shirt and boxers. "I am freezing."

"I can tell," Tony said, glancing at her heavy sweatpants and sweatshirt. 'Think you have enough layers? You're like an Eskimo." He smiled.

She, on the other, averted her eyes and wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. "I am just cold. It seems as though the heating system is also broken."

"Mm-hm," Tony said slowly, scrutinizing her protective moment.

Ziva, feeling Tony's eyes on her, turned and walked over to the window. She reached up to pull down the thin, shabby blinds, and as she did so, her sweatshirt, which was a little short, rode up her waist to the bottom of her ribcage.

That's when Tony saw them.

Ziva's back and stomach were riddled with bruises, cuts and ridges, extending past the waistline of her sweats and probably up onto her shoulders and breasts. Ziva, who still had her back to Tony, felt her sweatshirt ride up and quickly pulled her arms down- but it was too late. When she turned around, Tony had stood up and walked over to her, his eyes still glued to the spot that had just been exposed.

Ziva looked down at the floor, at the wall, at the window. Anywhere but Tony's face. After a few moments, he brought his hand up to her face and firmly but gently tipped it up, so that her chocolate eyes were looking directly into his hazel ones. Tony's face had set into a clenched, sad expression that matched his voice as he said quietly:

"It was him."

Ziva bit her lip and downcast her now-glossy eyes in response.

"What else did he do to you?" This time, Ziva raised her eyes bravely to his and didn't say anything. Tony knew the answer by her defiant expression.

He released his grip on Ziva's face and turned around, pressing both hands roughly to his neck before spinning back around to face her.

"Why the _hell_ didn't you tell me?"

"Because," Ziva responded in an impressively steady voice, though her eyes threatened to spill at any moment, "I knew you would react this way."

"Gibbs know?" he asked, trying and failing to restrain the shaking in his voice.

She nodded slowly and calculated his expression, which seemed to hold a mixture of sadness and shock.

"Tony-" she began, uncertain of what to say.

"_What?_" he responded, his tone layered with anger and worry and jealousy and confusion.

"Please do not be angry with me. I have already had enough of that. They do not even hurt anymore."

Tony's face softened at this. "Ziva."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"You need to know that you can tell me anything. Anytime."

Ziva nodded, overcome with relief at his lack of anger.

"Seriously. Because I care about you. A lot. You're my partner."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"And you don't need to apologize. But....just tell me about stuff like that, okay?"

She nodded again and suddenly, she was leaning subconsciously into his shoulder. He carefully wrapped his warm arms around her waist and pressed her face against his chest. They both took a deep, shuddering breath at the same time, their chests rising and falling in perfect, organized harmony. Ziva let one tear fall and soak into Tony's shirt before peacefully resting her head against him and deciding not to cry about it again.

The pair stood together, in the dark, for only a handful of minutes, but as each second ticked by, they basked in each other's warmth and size, soaked up scents and colors and unsaid words.

"Can we lay down? Cause I'm kind of exhausted," Tony said into Ziva's shoulder. Ziva smiled into his chest.

"Yes. I am too."

They laid down together, facing away from each other, but each smiling into their pillows. When Tony was sure Ziva was asleep, he turned towards her and slung an arm around her waist, pulling her to his chest for the second time that night. He fell asleep to her soft, cadenced breathing.

* * *

A/N: Blech. This is so cliched it makes me want to throw up. And on the fluff scale, I'd say it gets about a zero. But as I said before, I felt that this chapter was necessary- after all, I can't write them doing it without Tony noticing the scars that would have to exist all over Ziva from her recent encounter with torture.

I promise the next chapter will be better, and it should be here by Saturday at the latest. Thanks for reading, guys, and drop in a review on your way out!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Some romantic fluff. As promised.

Also, I am sincerely sorry for the delay in updating. I forgot I had a soccer tournament on Saturday, and although I had written most of the chapter, it was crap because I hadn't edited it at all. So, instead of giving you bad, unedited crap, I decided to give you crap that I had at least spent some time on.

Anyways....enjoy!

* * *

One day had passed, and again, the prostitute lay, completely dormant, in her house. The pink morning light had darkened to afternoon gold, and then to clear navy, again sprinkled with white specks.

"This is the most pointless case we have ever pursued," Ziva said to Tony as they observed the monitor showing the camera feed into the prostitute's bedroom. It was 9:00, and she was lying, asleep, in her bed.

"I absolutely agree. And I've been here four more years than you," Tony replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching. "I mean, what prostitute goes to sleep at 9:00, two nights in a row?"

"A very un-corny one," Ziva said.

"What? Uhh...I think you mean _horny_. A very un-_horny_ one."

"Same difference," Ziva responded, as she did to all of Tony's idiom corrections.

"No, actually. It's not." Turning to the monitor that showed a perturbed, currently caffeine-deprived Gibbs, Tony said: "Boss, this is going nowhere. Ziva and I've been watching her all day and there's been nothing out of the ordinary going on. Can we just call it a day and go to bed?"

"Lemme think about that, DiNozzo...NO!" Gibbs roared. Tony recoiled and almost fell out of his chair. Ziva smirked. "DiNozzo, have we ever taken a case that was "pointless"? As David put it?" Ziva's smirk disappeared. Tony shook his head nervously. "Well, then, I'm glad that's settled. McGee!" Gibbs yelled as McGee entered Abby's lab. "Give me one good reason why you don't have a large black coffee in your hands right now!"

"Hey guys," McGee said into the camera, obviously hoping to avoid Gibbs' question.

"_McGee!_ One good reason!"

"W- well, see, Boss," McGee stuttered nervously, "the Starbucks down the street is closed for the next few days because the owner was killed in a car crash."

"I said a _good_ reason, McGee!" McGee widened his eyes in shock. Tony and Ziva looked on in amusement.

"Boss...the owner was killed. In a car cr-"

"I heard ya the first time! Why didn't you just go to a different coffee shop?"

"Well, you said that if I wasn't back in 10 minutes you would, and I quote, "shoot me in the knee", and the next closest coffee shop was another 10 minutes away."

"So it took you 10 minutes to drive to Starbucks and back?"

"No! Of course not. I came back here and fixed that old coffee machine upstairs, you know, the one that's been broken for-"

"Dammit, McGee! _I_ was the one who broke it! I hate that coffee. Tastes like dirt." McGee started to back away slowly from a steaming Gibbs, who looked as if he were about to throw something. "Get me a decent coffee. _Now._" McGee scurried out of the room without a backwards glance.

Gibbs turned back to the camera, which revealed a slightly frightened Tony and Ziva, as well as an extremely clean, mold free wall. (Tony and Ziva had worked excessively on the wall that faced the monitors so Gibbs wouldn't yell at them for slacking of while they were supposed to be cleaning).

"What?" He demanded. Tony and Ziva shook their heads. "You two...keep doing what you're doing. That means _no_ sleep. Until I say so. And turn off your damn light. The entire world can probably see through that window." Tony glanced doubtfully at the grubby glass, but responded:

"Will do, Boss. And good luck with that coffee." Tony smirked and Gibbs glared at him before shutting off the camera.

"I am glad that is over," Ziva said in a relieved tone.

"I know what you mean. A coffee-deprived Gibbs is never a good Gibbs," Tony said, a light attempt at humor. Ziva smiled and said:

"You know, we probably should turn off the light. We can't risk being seen."

"On it." Tony got up off of his chair and walked slowly over to the light switch while Ziva checked out his butt.

The pair watched the prostitute sleep for over an hour, talking about nothing in particular- coworkers, cases, caffeine- until a coffee-hydrated Gibbs finally checked in and told them to call it a night, although it was only eleven o'clock.

Ziva didn't bother telling Tony to change in the bathroom, as he had already seen her scars. Instead of donning a full NCIS sweatsuit again, she pulled on a her oversize t-shirt. Tony, who was wearing the same thing he had the previous night, felt blood pooling to his face in anger when he saw scars and bruises creeping down past the t-shirt to the top parts of her thighs, but didn't say anything. The subject was touchy, even though the two had reconciled slightly last night.

Tony and Ziva laid down together on their mattress, and for a few minutes, said nothing to each other, although both knew the other was awake. Finally, after the thick pressure of conversation had practically flattened them both, Tony said:

"You ever think about Gibbs?"

"Yes." Ziva replied. "I work with him every day. As do you." Tony tried to fight the thin, almost nonexistent tide of jealousy that has risen a little within him.

"No." He sat up and Ziva, hearing the rustling of covers, followed suit. They sat facing each other, Tony propped up against the wall, his legs stretched out over the mattress, Ziva sitting cross-legged only inches away from his calf, as Tony continued. "I mean, do you ever think about how he got to be the way he did?"

Ziva was silent for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how did he get to be the impatient, bourbon drinking, not-afraid-of-anything, Arnold-Schwarznegger-like pirate he is?"

"Arnold Wartsnaker?"

"Never mind. Just answer the question," Tony said, rolling his eyes.

She paused before answer. "I believe that it started with Jenny."

"Really?" Ziva nodded. "I always thought it started with Shannon. He met her right before he enlisted, you know."

"I know that."

"Not that I would know anything about this," Tony grinned ruefully, but Ziva saw traces of longing in the wake of his smile, "but I think he loved Shannon more than the Navy. Which is saying something. When she died, he directed all of his crazy, contained anxiety, or anger, or whatever it was, into investigating."

Ziva shrugged and looked to the side. "Think whatever you want. I still believe that it started with Jenny." She was silent.

Tony glanced at her. "Care to share?"

"Well." She looked at him. "I know that you are going to say that Gibbs was already broken when he first met Jenny. But," she countered, although Tony hadn't spoken, "he had married 3 more times. And.... divorced 3 times. Gibbs will never be fully healed from his family's murders, but I believe that before he met Jenny, he was further along in the process than he is now. Jenny broke his heart," she finished softly.

Tony surveyed her expression before asking, "How do you know that?"

"Do you remember the first week I spent at NCIS?" Tony nodded; he remembered it well. It had been a week- a year, really- of curly black hair, a make-up-free face, eye-sex, and wondering what would come next. It had been a year before Jeanne.

"One of the first nights I was there, I saw Gibbs walking out with some woman. The Director was watching him." Tony nodded again, unsure of her point. "There was something in her expression- other than jealousy, of course-" at which Tony smiled- "....I couldn't place it. And then, a few months later, when she showed us that picture of her next that hut they had had to share...it was guilt. She was guilty."

"They loved each other." Tony's comment was more of a statement than a question. Ziva nodded.

"She left him," Ziva said, and although she was unsure of the truth of her words, she said it with a confidence that caused Tony to believe what she said.

"They were perfect for each other. Meant to be. If you believe in that sort of thing," he said absently. Both of their minds were slipping to the past, into a dark room, lit only by a desk light and the amber glow of alcohol. Tony remembered one part of their conversation, perhaps the only part of it where they had disagreed. He nervously chanced it again:

"It was inevitable." One part of him hoped she would disagree, as she had last time; yet another, perhaps more sensible part, knew that she wouldn't.

Ziva remained silent, her dark eyes glowing in the surrounding blue shadows. They were glued to his face. "I do."

"You do...what?"

"I do believe in 'that sort of thing'." Ziva's eyes bored into his, daring him to disagree, or even just to answer.

"The only difference is that she was too ambitious for her own good." Tony regretted the words as they pooled and streamed from his mouth. Ziva tipped her head to the side.

"Difference? The only difference between what?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Nothing. The difference between nothing. Never mind," Tony said, his voice grasping and fumbling awkwardly to find the right words.

The air between them was thick and unanswered.

"The difference between what, Tony?" Ziva repeated quietly, her voice slow and sweet and husky.

Tony was unfazed by her obvious attempt to charm him. He tilted his head to the side, looked directly into her eyes, and said: "Ziva. I think we both know what I'm talking about."

"I am not certain I do." They both knew she was lying.

Tony scoffed. "You know I know you're lying, right?" He sighed as she remained silent. "But you obviously want to hear it explained. Of course." Only Tony could have noticed the slight twitch in her mouth. "Okay. Here goes. Ziva, the first year I knew you, I was in love with you." Ziva did not look surprised.

"I know that." Tony gave a short laugh.

"You know that."

"Yes, I know that. Because I think I fell i love with you too."

They surveyed each other.

Ziva sighed and said: "And then Jeanne came."

"And then Jeanne came," Tony repeated steadily. "And things got a hell of a lot more complicated." Ziva nodded heavily, her eyes now downcast. Tony reached out a hand and briefly touched her chin, causing her to look up into his eyes. "And I fell in love with her. I don't know why."

"it was because you had never met anyone like her."

"Maybe." Tony shrugged the words off, expertly burying the worn pain that rose up every time this subject came up.

"And then Jeanne left. And you did not want to talk to me anymore," Ziva continued, her voice free of emotion.

"That's not true. The only reason I didn't talk to you was because I was afraid I would fall in love with you again."

"And if you had?" Ziva asked, her voice calculated. "We are not compatible, Tony. We are not alike. We just... work well together. But any feelings we could have had for each other would have been too risky to obtain."

"It's too late to think about the consequences," Tony said, his voice equally as balanced.

Ziva drew a heaving breath and looked away.

"Ziva. I am in love with you." Tony said it with a sureness and steadiness Ziva was sure she never could have achieved.

She thought a moment before responding. "I am in love with you too." Her tone was businesslike and different from Tony's; however, their voices complemented each other perfectly.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," Tony said as he leaned towards her. Ziva was quicker; she pushed her lips onto his first, their mouths hot and tender against each other. The kiss was slow but deep. Tony wrapped his arms around Ziva, caressing her ruined, soft skin. She tilted her head back as he pushed his mouth down against her neck, trailing kisses across her skin. As time passed, their kisses became breathy and choppy, their movements shorter and rougher. They pulled back from each other, understanding and want evident in both their faces.

Neither had noticed that Gibbs' face had been present on one of the monitors for their entire conversation. Now, as he recognized the familiar signs, he turned away, shutting off the camera and with welcoming arms walked into a night that was to be filled with tears, contemplation, realization, and possible solutions of how to handle the situation tomorrow.

* * *

......and I think we all know what's going to happen in the next chapter.

But seriously. I was a little nervous about this chapter. For some reason, everyone seemed OOC. _Please_ tell me what you think, because outof character-ness (?) has been something I've been worrying about the whole time I've been writing this story. (And yes. That is a shameless plea for reviews.)

But I have some bad news. School is starting for me on Monday, which means more homework. Which means less time to write. Which means fewer updates. The next chapter should be here early this week, but after that, updates for this story will be extremely irregular :( But please, stick with me for the next couple of weeks. Christmas break starts in 13 days for me (I'm wondering why they're having us go back to school at all) which will bring a shower of updates.

Thanks for reading, everyone! Review, review, review!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Firstly: I am SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO incredibly sorry for lying about when I would post this chapter. I am fully aware that I promised to post it exactly a week and a half ago- but what can I say? Life (a.k.a. homework) got in the way. Majorly. Plus, my boarding school is now conducting classes on Saturday, which really sucks. I have just been completely swamped for the past two weeks, and every free hour I had was used to sleep. If I could have updated, I would have, but I just couldn't find the time. God. Sometimes I hate boarding school. Well, most of the time....

On a happier note: it's Christmas break! Hooray! This means updates for you, and hopefully, some encouraging reviews for me ;)

And finally, to talk about the chapter. One word for you people: SEX. Sex sex sex sex sex. (Why, yes, I did grow up in New England.) However, as you're reading, bear in mind that I, being only 15, have never actually had sex. I tried to get it right... but who knows? (Well, certainly not me.) Anyway, this chapter is the reason that this story is rated M (though I promise you there will be more lemony chapters) so if you're young or offended or whatever I would advise against reading.

Anyways. Again, I am extremely sorry for the slow update. Hopefully it won't happen again anytime soon.

As always: enjoy!

* * *

Their mouths melded together for what seemed like a slow, sweet eternity, until Tony pulled back and trailed his mouth down Ziva's neck, leaving hot kisses in his wake like footprints. Ziva tilted her head and closed here eyes, drawing closer to Tony. His arms around her waist tightened and the speed of his kisses increased. Each of Ziva's breaths became quicker and more shallow; Tony's became deeper and thicker.

It wasn't until Ziva wrapped her legs around Tony that one of the spoke.

"Hey." It was Tony. "Are you sure?"

Ziva leaned in to kiss him again, but Tony pulled back, and, placing his hands on her arms, looked directly into her eyes.

She nodded before breathing a quiet "Yes".

"Because, I mean, this place is kind of disgusting. Just think about it. Yesterday we were on our hands and knees scrubbing the floor."

"Tony."

"Also, mold is everywhere. I mean, there probably isn't a square inch of this place that isn't coated with mold."

"_Tony._"

"Plus this mattress is probably infested with some sort of... diseased thing. Like bedbugs. Do bedbugs even exist? I've kinda always wondered about that because- hey, were you trying to say something?" Tony cut himself off, breathing heavily.

"Tony." He raised his eyebrows. "You are not getting cold hands on me, are you?"

"Actually, the expression is 'getting cold feet'. My hands are fine. See?" He placed one on Ziva's face, cupping it gently. She smiled a little but her questioning look remained, heavy and permanent until Tony answered.

Tony sighed heavily. "No. I'm not...I...I just want to make sure that- that this is what you, you know... want," he finished, unsure of what to say.

"You think I do not want you," she stated.

"No! No, I don't think that at all," Tony said, surprised at her assumption. "I just wanted to- is it going to hurt you?" he asked, choosing not to drag it out.

Ziva looked at him for a long time. "No. I do not believe so."

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. "And Ziva?"

"Mmm?"

"This is....what you want. Right? You want to do this?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. Tony grinned. "Just kiss me, Tony."

He pressed his face to hers, their mouths locked in a fluxing, tight embrace. Again, their breathing became sucking and heavy with the releasing of 4 years of pent-up tension and want. Ziva tightened her legs around Tony's hips, increasing the pleasure of the stabbing feeling between her legs. She felt Tony stiffen under her. Both of their bodies shivered tightly. The rise and fall of their chests were quick and synchronized now, each of their mouths battling for domination, their midsections tightening and becomeing sensitive and slippery.

Suddenly, Tony rolled Ziva onto her back, drawing back from her and looking into her eyes, the small creases of devious smiles evident everywhere in his face. Ziva let out a laugh and leaned back up kiss him again. Tony smiled into her soft lips and coiled his arms around her shoulders, hesitantly running his course but gentle hands over her riddled shoulder blades, caressing her. Ziva closed her eyes and let out a deep, shuddering side. She leaned her head back down on the mattress, breaking their kiss for less than a second until Tony brought his mouth down onto hers again, somewhat roughly.

Ziva arched her back, pressing herself into Tony, who responded with a moan. He reached for her hair elastic and let her hair cascade over her shoulders and onto their mattress. Ziva tightened her arms around Tony's waist and drew herself even closer, which caused him to harden. Ziva could feel wetness pooling in her underwear, and as Tony's hands roamed her body, her hips, her inner thighs, he felt it as well.

Tony slipped his hands under her t-shirt, and as he gently gripped her waist, they both subconsciously held their breath, waiting for the other to confirm that this was alright. After sharing one of their famous, practiced eye conversations- swirling and hopeful pools of brown and green- Tony slid his hands up further, caressing her flat stomach, gently rubbing circles over her abdomen. Ziva shivered as chills slithered under her skin. She felt her nipples harden, and as Tony slid his hands over her breasts, he did as well. His mouth curved into a slight smirk, and in one fluid motion, Ziva's shirt was over her head and discarded onto the floor, a pile of gray fabric that meant so little but so much.

Ziva lay on the mattress in nothing but her plain black underwear. Tony marveled at her; although her formerly pearl-smooth skin had been marred by a hundred ugly scars, he still considered her a goddess.

As Tony looked at her bare breasts, she fingered his shirt , and he helped her strip it off before bending his head, slightly hesitantly, towards her chest. Ziva arched her back again as Tony laid his mouth on her collarbone and kissed it, hard. His mouth suctioned it's way down, leaving trails of tender redness in it's path, until it found Ziva's left breast. She closed her eyes as Tony massaged her nipple with his mouth, encasing it as it hardened. His tongue formed small circles round it, and as Ziva started to shake, Tony moved to her other breast, repeating the process.

Her breath was coming in deep, barely controlled gasps now. Tony moved his hands from her breasts to her face and kissed her long and hard, his lips devouring hers. Ziva's legs twitched slightly at the contact; it was all Tony needed.

He sat back up and moved down towards the end of the mattress, Ziva looking at him in confusion. He grinned but didn't say anything. Tony placed his hands on the insides of her ankles, and when he began to finger the insides of her lower legs, Ziva smiled in understanding. Tony moved his hands to the insides of her knees, massaging the soft skin. As he reached up towards the insides of her lower thighs, Ziva bucked her legs slightly. As Tony's hands continued to travel, she felt herself omit even more wetness.

Finally, Tony reached his destination. He slid his fingers under Ziva's panties, testing and feeling the wet cloth, his fingers inexplicably delighted to scrape across the liquid.

Unable to sustain any more control, Ziva reached down and quickly pulled the underwear off, tossing the black barrier onto the floor next to her shirt.

Tony felt her, his fingers exploring her folds and skin. He gently pinched her outer labia, eliciting a breathy moan from Ziva. As his fingers roamed towards her clit, he felt it swell.

"Tony...." Ziva's whisper was layered with emotion. Her hands gripped his hair violently as she pushed up towards him. The sudden change in position of Ziva's hips caused Tony's wet fingers to slip inside her. Ziva gave a soft scream as she felt her orgasm climb.

Tony smiled and bent his head towards her, moving his tongue to where his fingers had been a few moments before. He licked her inner folds, and when his tongue found her opening, Ziva's hands clenched his face.

"I need...." Ziva trailed off, the fire in her nerves disabling her voice. However, Tony knew what she meant- he slid off his boxers, revealing himself hard, hot and ready to enter.

Ziva, who's orgasm was practically destroying her nerves, pushed herself towards Tony. Although he was fully aroused, he backed away slightly, smirking. Ziva opened her mouth slightly, smiling, her eyes wide. She laughed and and sat up, grabbing onto his waist. Tony laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down onto him. He kissed her, gentle and slow, as he aligned her hips with his.

Ziva pulled back a bit and looked into Tony's eyes, still smiling.

"I have wanted this," she panted, "for a very long time."

Tony took her face in his hands. "You don't need to tell me about it, kid." The look they shared was the most meaningful either could recall.

The moment Tony entered Ziva was exquisite. Their orgasms rocked each other's bodies. Their thrusts started out slow, but the strange feeling of relief that overtook them both each time Tony entered lead to faster, tighter movements, until each was panting and coated with sweat- among other substances.

After both were too tired to continue, they lay next to each other, the chests rising and falling in unison. Their legs were tangled and intertwined in the way only lovers' can be.

Tony turned his head to look at Ziva, who noticed the shift out of the corner of her eye and copied the movement. They stared at each other.

Finally, Ziva rested her head against Tony's naked shoulder, turning her mouth into his skin and kissing it.

"I love you," she said quietly, her voice muffled by skin and emotion.

Tony kissed her hair. "I know," he said, mimicking her words from earlier that night.

They smiled against each other.

After a while, Tony's breathing regulated, and when Ziva looked up from his chest, she found that his eyes were closed. She smiled and leaned her head back down, and as she fell asleep, she hazily acknowledged the bright white light on the top of the computer screen, although she didn't acknowledge that it meant the camera had been left on.

* * *

A/N: Just so everyone knows, I'm not going to write Gibbs having watched them have sex. That would be weird. He only listened to them talk about him and Jenny. But Tony and Ziva don't have to know that- I can make them think anything I want x).

Right, well, as I said before, I am rather inexperienced in the sex department. If you find anything to be unrealistic, drop me a review saying so. Or, you could drop me a review saying how pissed you are at my late update. A review that praises the chapter really would be ideal, but honestly, I'd be happy with anything- a review is proof that all of my readers are still reading/still alive. You never know; updates as slow as mine certainly leave room for freak accidents (or death by suspense) to happen in between.

Thanks for reading everyone, and if I haven't done this enough: I apologize for the late update.

Kat


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